


Naruto Drabbles

by akimikono



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mission Reports, Modern AU, Other, Payback, Prompt Fic, Responsibility, Tumblr Prompt, art class
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 11:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13386945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akimikono/pseuds/akimikono
Summary: Each of these drabbles were from Tumblr prompt lists I found on Google. If you recognize the prompt, please feel free to credit the OP since the username was cropped out.Various drabbles with various characters. EACH PAIRING DRABBLE CAN BE READ AS A GEN FIC, OR AS A SHIP FIC. ANY TRUE SHIP DRABBLES WILL BE SPECIFIED AT THE BEGINNING OF THE FIC.





	1. Art Class (Sasori & Deidara)

**Author's Note:**

> Modern AU where Saso and Dei take an art class

Sasori stared in great displeasure at the _thing_ sitting on his partner’s pottery wheel. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew he hated it. Deidara clearly hadn’t gotten the hang of using the wheel for his sculptures, since he’d spent most of his creative life working clay on a stationary surface. But they’d both joined art classes at the university but only for each one to prove the other - and the rest for the class - wrong about what they thought true art was.

Now that they had completed the sculptures, it was time to put them into the kiln. Sasori was eager to glaze and finish his piece - a scaled-down version of his favorite life-like mannequin he kept at home. He had no real reason for the intricate model, but he thought it was more useful than the lopsided vases and flattened jewelry boxes the rest of the class made.

The professor came by to instruct everyone to put their pieces on the tray to be taken to the kiln. Sasori watched in irritation as Deidara jovially scooped up whatever crap he’d put together onto the tray. The professor eyed it just as suspiciously. As she moved to Sasori’s wheel, he heard her muttering, “I’m like 75% sure this won’t explode on us …”

Gently placing his mannequin’s miniature on the tray, Sasori cleaned up and headed home.

The next week when returned to class, he heard distressed sounds and a long, loud cackle emitting from the classroom. He marched inside, just as pompous as the rest of the art students had been before they saw their finished pieces. On the large circular table was the class’s work - or what was left of it.

Nearly every piece had a chunk taken out of it; vases cleaved through the center and mugs that had their handles blown clean off.

Irritably, Sasori pushed past everyone to retrieve his model only to find it missing from the collection of ruined pottery.

“Where is it?” he barked. His eyes snapped up at the sound of a snicker and saw Deidara across the table, the back of his hand pressed to his mouth. “Where’s yours?”

Deidara motioned to the fractured pieces of some indiscernible thing lying together. “Guess it blew up,” he said, not a hint of apology in his voice.

“Where’s mine?” Sasori demanded again, as if one of the other students would have conceivably stolen his work, when every single one of them was terrified of him.

Deidara pointed again at the table, this time at a pile of dust littered with tiny bits of hardened clay. It took a moment for Sasori to realize that Deidara meant that pile of rubble was _his_ precious miniature he’d painstakingly molded and carved. His eyes turned slowly upward, as hard and cold as marbles, to Deidara who was giggling.

“What - happened?” he asked slowly, voice thick with poison.

Deidara shrugged and a grin split his face. “Guess it blew up.”

 


	2. Cheapskate (Kakashi, Naruto & Sakura)

“It was so nice catching up with you two again,” Sakura beamed, her bottle green eyes shining in the fluorescent lights overhead. Her wooden chopsticks clinked against the empty ramen bowl on the counter as she set them aside. “I can’t believe it’s been so long.”

Naruto grinned wide, drops of dashi broth sitting on his chin and a tiny fleck of nori between his teeth. “It was nice having a meal with two of my favorite people,” he agreed, turning to look at Sakura and then at Kakashi. “We should do this more often!”

“Hm,” Kakashi nodded, already pushing his nose into the pages of Icha Icha. He suspected this had been one more attempt for his grown students to catch even the slightest glimpse of his unmasked face. But an over-boiling pot and Teuchi cutting his finger on a freshly sharpened knife provided just enough distraction for him to eat without them seeing.

“You know what we should do?” Sakura quipped, leaning an elbow on the counter and sitting forward to see both men.

“What?” Naruto asked, drumming his fingers together almost mischievously, like he knew the answer already.

“We should start treating each other! So one time, you pay for all of us, Naruto, then the next time, I pay and so on.”

“Good idea,” he piped up, his blue eyes full of understanding. They turned on Kakashi who was only half listening. He quirked an eyebrow and threw a glance in their direction.

“Hm?”

Both grinning like toddlers who’ve just put into place the best prank against their unsuspecting parent, they crowed together, “Thank you for treating us to ramen, Kakashi-sensei!”

“Huh?”

Quicker than Lee without his weights, Sakura and Naruto bolted out of the ramen sand, leaving Kakashi behind with an enormous stack of empty bowls. He turned to see Teuchi standing there, bill in bandaged hand, staring him down. Sheepishly, Kakashi tucked away Icha Icha and began patting down his clothes. He fumbled through a few pockets, muttered, “I know it’s here somewhere …”, then turned suddenly and pointed out onto the street.

“Quick, catch that cat! It stole my wallet!” Jumping to his feet, Kakashi sprinted out of Ichiraku, chased by the angry shouts of Teuchi and Ayame. For a disappointed moment, Kakashi thought he’d never be able to return to the ramen stand. Then he realized - the bill would be added to an open tab, and the only shinobi with an open tab at Ichiraku was Naruto. And judging from Sakura’s suggestion of “treating each other”, it’d be Naruto’s turn to pay for them all next time anyway. Humming to himself, Kakashi strolled down the street and thought about inviting Gai to their next outing, and perhaps even Chouji. Maybe he’d even make it a challenge; a ramen-eating contest.

 


	3. Nightmares (Iruka & Naruto)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU that's still in the Narutoverse, but Iruka is a lot older than Naruto and adopts him as a baby after Minato and Kushina die.

The door swung open and slammed against the wall with a bang. Iruka shot up in bed, half asleep but ready to defend with a kunai from under his pillow now in his hand. Through the blur of sleep, he could see a tiny shape moving through the dark room toward his bed. Fumbling with his bedside lamp, Iruka managed to flick it on just in time to see the lump leap into his bed and pull away the blankets that had piled at Iruka’s waist.

Sighing in exasperation, Iruka tucked the kunai back under his pillow and rubbed his forehead. “Naruto …” he said softly, trying to sound gentle instead of irritated. “What’s wrong this time?”

The 5 year old crawled into Iruka’s lap and hid his face into his chest, breathing heavily. Iruka patted his head of messy blonde hair with one hand and rubbed his back with the other.

“You have to stop waking me up in the middle of the night. You can’t just run around the house so late. You need to sleep -”

Naruto shook his head viciously and headbutted Iruka square in the chest.

“Oof -! N-Naruto! Knock it off! This is the third time you’ve come in here and not said anything. You just ask to sleep in here. You’re getting old enough now to sleep in your own bed. Don’t you like it? We picked it out together.”

Naruto shook his head again.

“Come on, let’s get you back -”

“No!” Naruto clutched at Iruka’s night shirt.

“No? Naruto, you have to sleep in your own bed -”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?” Iruka’s mind ran through all possibilities for why Naruto refused to use his own bed. “Is it … dirty? Did you have an accident?”

“No! I had a bad dream!”

“A bad dream?”

Naruto nodded firmly.

“What about?”

Sniffling, Naruto wiped his nose on his hand and looked up at Iruka whose impatience had been replaced by concern. “There was a big monster living in my closet … and he talked to me … he said bad things would happen to you … an-and he said you weren’t my real daddy. He said he knew my real daddy and that he died a long time ago.” Naruto’s tiny face was scrunched up and beet red as he sobbed. Iruka hugged him tightly to his chest and rocked him back and forth.

“It was just a nightmare, Naruto. It’s okay. I’m here. Nothing bad’s going to happen to me … a-and I am your dad, Naruto. I’ve always been. And I’ll always be. Don’t be afraid. The monster’s not real.”

Naruto’s small body shook uncontrollably as Iruka cradled him in his arms, placing gentle kisses to the top of his head, cut through with murmurs of reassurance. Once the child had calmed enough, Iruka laid back down and let Naruto nuzzle into the crook of his arm and clasp tightly to his shirt. Pulling the comforter over them, Iruka laid awake all night, listening as Naruto’s cries faded to hiccups and finally to even breathing.

The chunin’s mind wandered to the kunai under his pillow and he knew it wasn’t even enough to chase away nightmares, let along fight off the monster haunting his son.

 


	4. Hardly Working (Kotetsu, Izumo & Tsunade)

At half past three in the afternoon, Izumo and Kotetsu were pretty much dying of boredom. They still had piles of paperwork to do, but neither of them felt like doing anything. Being a shinobi seemed to consist of two things - going on missions, or doing paperwork. Some missions were pretty boring too, but paperwork just didn’t have the same danger of ambush, injury or death that a really good mission did.

Izumo folded one paper into an airplane and lobbed it at Kotetsu across the room. One wing was larger than the other so it tilted harshly to the let, swerved away from Kotetsu’s desk, and straight into the ground. The other man didn’t even seem to notice so Izumo tried again. This one was wrinkled at the front and nosedived right into the floor. At the failure of his second attempt, Izumo cursed quietly under his breath and started a third. Kotetsu finally looked up and quirked an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

Izumo hurriedly shuffled the papers together and coughed, “Nothing.”

“Mhm …” He watched the older ninja try to stealthily fold another airplane, properly this time. Kotetsu decided he could one up his partner and began tearing one report into small pieces and balling them up.

“What are _you_ doing?” Izumo challenged, alerted by the sound of paper ripping.

“Nothing,” Kotetsu mimicked, not even bothering to look up. He worked the report into a few dozen paper balls and retrieved the straw from his long empty cup. He turned just as Izumo launched his third plane and it soared across the room and glided onto Kotetsu’s desk as if it were its very own landing strip.

“Dang. Missed.”

“Missed? What were you aiming for?”

“Your head.” Izumo started on a fourth plane.

Kotetsu took the opportunity to slip a paper ball into one end of his straw, drew the other end to his lips, aimed expertly, and blew as hard as he could. The paper ball shot out like a bullet and hit Izumo in the eye, causing him to throw his head back and groan.

“What are you doing?!” he shouted.

“ _I_ didn’t miss.”

Izumo crumpled up the final paper plane and threw it at Kotetsu, who was firing more spitballs at him. Before long the room was cluttered with torn paper, crumbled up reports, and soggy beads of paper balls. Izumo had run out of paper and was just reaching for a bookend to throw when a harsh voice cut in,

“Skipping out on work again?”

They both turned hurriedly to see Tsunade standing there, looking annoyed. Each tried to clean up their desks but it didn’t matter since the rest of the office was a mess. Kotetsu opened his mouth to speak but one look from Tsunade silenced him.

“Clearly you two have a hard time _working_ together. I’m going out for a late lunch. By the time I get back, I expect this place to be cleaned up and every - single - report - finished.”

Neither protested as she left. Once her footsteps faded, Izumo moved to pick up the first of many ruined reports when he was hit in the back of the head with a paper ball.

“What are you doing? She said to clean up.”

Kotetsu scoffed and began unfolding one piece of paper to make into a whole new set of spitballs. “She said she’s going for a late lunch. That’s code for she’s going out for a few drinks and won’t be back tonight.”

Izumo’s face lit up and he abandoned his task of cleaning, throwing the handful of paper balls at Kotetsu. “Well then - looks like it’s night shift’s problem!”

Kotetsu fired three spitballs at once and they each stuck to the side of Izumo’s desk. “No wonder they hate us.”

 


	5. A Compliment For Brown Eyes (Kakashi & Iruka)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd always wondered if Iruka was related to Hashirama and then I saw it was someone's headcanon, so I felt validated haha. 
> 
> I think this is my favorite drabble so far.

“But I think it’s important for all students to feel that their hard work is being recognized, even if they’re failing their classes -”

“Your eyes aren’t brown.”

“Huh?” Iruka’s attention was ripped from the list of things he’d pretty much memorized. He blinked a few times, the unwavering stare of the Rokudaime making him nervous. “What?”

“Your eyes. They aren’t brown,” Kakashi said as if it were perfectly normal business to interrupt the principal of the Academy with a tidbit of information in regards to the younger man’s eyes.

Iruka’s eyebrows furrowed together, a mix of annoyed that he’d been interrupted when discussing something important and confused because, _yes his eyes were brown thank you very much._

“What are you talking about? They are too brown. But as I was saying -”

“No, no, they aren’t,” Kakashi insisted.

“Yes. They are.”

“I mean, they’re brown, but that’s not it.”

“May I please continue? I’d like to get through this before I lose you to another appointment.”

Kakashi, clearly distracted, went on. “They are brown but … they have little flecks of gold in them. Around your pupil. And there’s a little bit of green. I’d never noticed before.”

Iruka huffed. “I’d never expect you to notice my eyes.” Though secretly he was impressed. He’d noted the green a few years ago, but hadn’t yet seen the gold. Maybe it was just the lighting. “Can I -?”

“Wait.”

Iruka grumbled as Kakashi escaped his desk to stand before the photographs of the previous Hokage. “Come here.”

The chunin reluctantly sidled beside Kakashi and looked at the photos. “What?”

Kakashi motioned to the first Hokage, Hashirama. “Dark hair, dark skin … similar eyes … your jawline and chin are the same too.” He turned suddenly and surprised the younger man, his eyes closed in a smile. “Are you sure you aren’t related to Lord First Hokage? All the signs point to it. Maybe that’s why you have such a soft spot for Naruto … The Senju and Uzumaki bloodlines are connected. It’s your nature.”

Iruka now studied the photo of Hashirama carefully. He couldn’t deny there _were_ similarities … But so what? Lots of people looked alike but weren’t related, like Gai and Lee. Though that was mostly stylistic similarities. He noticed Kakashi was staring at him again and he made a face. “What?”

“Nothing. Go on with your report.”

“Thank you. As I was saying about the children -”

“Actually -”

Iruka snorted and looked close to committing murder.

“You may not be related, but … you are the same.” Kakashi looked again to the portraits. “Kind, patient, a love for knowledge and spreading the Will of Fire to the next generation … A good shinobi, a wonderful teacher, a friend even to your enemies. It doesn’t matter if you’re related by blood or not. You inherited the traits befitting a Hokage. Maybe you should be sitting here instead of me …”

Iruka stared in stunned silence until Kakashi turned back, smiled and urged him to continue his request. He fumbled through his report and said nothing else as Kakashi gave him feedback and sent him off. He was fairly distracted the rest of the week, wondering how such a revelation could come from a simple comment over eye color.

 


End file.
